


The Sound of Rain Pt. 1

by soulselfs



Category: DC - Fandom, DamiRae, Demonbirds, Teen Titans, Titans - Fandom
Genre: F/M, a bit of violence, but mostly just pining idiots, this work is uncompleted after pt 2 and will most likely remain that way
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-21
Updated: 2019-07-21
Packaged: 2020-07-10 06:18:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,962
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19901188
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/soulselfs/pseuds/soulselfs
Summary: ex’s damian wayne and raven had a nasty breakup years ago, which left them broken. they find themselves forced to be teammates on a dangerous spy mission.





	The Sound of Rain Pt. 1

“You can’t be serious,” Damian says, his face contorted in disbelief, wishing he misheard his father’s words.

Bruce let’s his eyes drift from the map he has been carefully inspecting, and meets his son’s gaze slowly. There’s an irritation that tugs at the dark blues, hidden behind years of patience and experience.

“You’ve failed your first mission as a vigilante halfway and your men have suffered from it,” He says, with a type of calmness in his voice that sends shivers down Damian’s spine. “The delinquent could be on his way to succeeding in another major future terrorist attack.”

Bruce sighed, tracing the pad of his fingers over their location on the map in front of him as Damian felt a sense of failure wash over him to his father’s words. Emotions of disappointment and panic and confliction were tangling with each other in his chest as he watched the time.

“Yet, in the midst of all this, you worry about having to work with an ex-lover,” Bruce shook his head, before reaching for the phone, about to call a backup when Damian placed his hand over his father’s.

“I’ll do it,” was all he said, before rushing out the door, buttoning his jacket and tucking a strand of loose hair from his forehead behind his ear.

As he walked out quietly of the rendezvous building, he felt the mist of rain being carried by the wind and the slash of water beneath tires. It reminded him of another time, a warm body pressed to his chest, a certain pair of lips pressed to his mouth for the first time that fateful night—

Damian shook away the thoughts. It wasn’t that he couldn’t put history aside to protect his people, moreso it was because he didn’t think he’d be able to concentrate, not even with a burning city in front of him if violet eyes were boring into his and a body that he was once thought of as an extension of his own with by his side like a stranger.

So, quite literally, he really couldn’t put his history aside to protect his people effectively. That and that thought only was enough to crush him in several ways, for a myriad of reasons.

Damian hadn’t even realized that he had walked into the circle of light on the sidewalk created by the street lamp until he saw familliar black heeled boots. That only was enough to make him stop in his tracks as memories of a woman he used to know flooded his mind.

For a moment, he hesitated, and wondered if he could only stare at her familliar shoes, perhaps the only thing that was the same about her now, and not look at her face.

It’d give him an appearance that wasn’t old, but new and current. It’d give him older features that would flood his mind, mingling with thoughts and what ifs long after this mission was over.

Inevitably, his eyes raked up her outline with hesitation before he met the gaze of the woman who was the muse of his melancholic dreams for the past three years.

The first thing he noticed that her eyes were the same, achingly familliar violet. It stirred something sharp in his chest, clenched around his heart as he remembered lazy mornings that he’d watch her eyelashes flutter before she awoke, lavender orbs meeting his.

Then he realized how darker they were, now.

Raven looked more mature in the face, like a proper woman instead of one on the brink of adulthood. Her hair, which he had previously kept in bangs swept to the side and nearly shoulder length now slightly below her chest, cascading in curls. Her bangs had grown out, her hair parted to one side.

The expression on her face was one he had seen before several times, was in fact the first expression he had ever seen on her. The emotion of false security was painted all over her features, with a sense of coldness and cocky confidence.

There was also something else, like a shade of sorrow hidden behind the brooding facade.

Raven’s jawline was sharper, now, and her body was less soft around the edges. The only thing that stayed was her love handles, which had always been Damian’s favorite, despite her disapproval.

She stood with a leg crooked and her arms wrapped around herself in a typical vigilante outfit. A black hoodie to hide the armor underneath which pocketed knives and bullets. A gun was tucked beneath it, thought it couldn’t be seen well. Skinny black jeans and heeled boots to match. Gloves hid her pale, bony fingers and glasses were tucked snug in her hair.

Damian fought the urge to rake his fingers through it.

It was almost too painful, the ache in his chest almost too unbearable to see somebody once wholly yours and now so distant and disconnected to his life. He saw only the ghost of a woman whom he once knew.

“Good evening,” Raven said, her voice still raspy but older, more confident. “Let’s get this over with.”

Her nonchalance would’ve hurt him if Damian didn’t know her well enough. Even after all this time, he still could tell when she was putting on a mask to hide her feelings. When she turned on her heel, slipped the shades over her eyes and tucked her hair into the hoodie, the sight was all too familliar to him.

The sight of her retreating back in rain, on another day when it was pouring hard much harsher than tonight. Much harsher than that first, fateful night.

Damian could only follow in silence, letting his thoughts wander to the mission instead, as he remembered all his men who were now taken hostage. A type of anger boiled in his veins, and he looked down with furrowed brows and an overwhelming sense of failure when Raven stopped in front of him.

He almost tumbled into her, but managed to halt himself. The warmth radiating off her body almost distracted him, but he vigorously shook the thoughts away as he tilted his head.

Two men were exiting from the back door of the casino, and Raven waved a hand behind her, fingertips brushing his chest. It was a movement that was enough to set his heart dropping from unspeakable heights until he realized how dangerous of a situation they were in and almost slammed his head against the brick wall to knock some sense into himself.

The two pressed themselves against the brick wall, the men passing with complete obliviousness to their years worth of training. Raven had pressed the tip of her boots against the door, effectively keeping a crack open.

“On three, we ambush” Raven whispered. “No time for other plans, we’re following emergency protocol.”

“Understood,” Damian said.

He counted down from three in his head, and then the two of them dashed into there, their guns secure in their hands as they attacked the two guardsmen, shooting them effectively and not waiting too watch their limp bodies fall to the ground before they reached for the computer.

Damian reached for the USB tucked into his jeans, hacking the computer to comply while Raven had the gun pointed carefully towards the backside door. She risked glances over at Damian, who was halfway through finishing the process of converting the documents of attack plans from the computer into the drive.

They heard the sound of cars pulling up not far, and the rush of men and curses. Damian felt Raven tense beside him, watching carefully as the numbers were steadily reaching ninety percent complete.

His heart was racing in his chest, mind wandering to all the lives that would be lost if they were killed today, to all the blame his soul would have to carry with him for the rest of eternity.

Ninety five percent complete.

Damian’s hands were clammy, shaking as Raven gripped the gun harder when the sounds of rush came closer.

“Damian—“ She said, intirreoted by gunfire as the door was whipped open by men in grey suits, who immediately hid behind the outside wall.

It gave Raven enough time to grab Damian’s hoodie, pulling him and the computer to behind the desk as she shot mercilessly before hissing in pain. Damian’s head shot towards her, so many words on the tip of his tongue, noticing only a slight graze of a bullet through her sleeves.

His heart raced, mind drifting to so many conclusions of panic, but trusting Raven ultimately as the computer reached one hundred percent.

“Complete!” Damian shouted through the havoc, rut king the USB into his pocket and reaching for his gun, shooting the last man through the shoulder before they heard the familliar voice of the delinquent shouting behind the door.

“Come,” Raven whispered, rushing towards a closet, closing the door softly as Damian hid with her, palm over the USB in his pocket. He tried to catch his breath, but he couldn’t stop inspecting the minor wound blooming on Raven’s arm.

“Why are we hiding from him?” Damian asked quietly. “We should get him over with, it doesn’t sound he has any immediate security with him.”

“It’s too small of a room, too close of a distance, too much of a panic,” Raven whispered, “We’d surely kill him and we need that bastard alive.”

Damian kept watching her, the confidence in her voice, the coldness in her words and the sharpness around the edges. He kept watching her profile, his throat tightening because even on the edge of potential death, he couldn’t help but realize exactly how much he had missed her.

That voice—that dangerous voice of hers, it was one of the infinite reasons as to why he had fallen for her as hard as he did those years ago. It reminded him of a nicer time, a time when he got to kiss the warmth of her lips and nuzzle his nose across her cheek and hold her.

A time when she was his.

Raven must have noticed, because she looked back, and for just a second her expression matched his before the gunshots were fired through the room. They silenced, and careful footsteps walked through the bodies on the floor and the mess that was the office.

Damian held his breath, could hear Raven struggling to hold hers as she held her the behind of her gun carefully at the door, presses against one side of the closet wall while Damian bordered the opposite side, beyond the door. The footsteps came closer, and beads of sweat trickled down Damian’s forehead.

He could see a shadow creep beneath the door, covering the light of the room, and it felt for ages as the figure lingered before quietly walking away, but it was a good thing that Damian didn’t let go of his breath because not even a second later, the door busted open.

Damian kicked the gun out of his hand while Raven smashed the end of the gun to the man’s forehead, knocking him unconscious. Blood trickled down the delinquents forehead, and Raven ripped of his carefully tucked scarf to wrap it around his head before calling for backup.

The call was long over with, but Raven still kept the phone to her ear, perhaps stalling the inevitable awkwardness that would settle in.

But Damian wouldn’t have that.

What he was seeing was a broken, older version of his once lover, a woman he knew so much of and so little, of one he had touched every inch of—standing in front of him looking so much younger after the familliar battle strategy they had just ensued.

He kept looking at her profile, something painful tugging at his chest before her eyes drifted from the criminal to the desk, where they lingered before settling on his.

Beat.

A single beat before the phone was slipping out of Raven’s fingers to the the desk, reaching out to settle her hands on Damian’s shoulders as he practically ran over to collect her in his arms.

Kissing Raven after three years felt like home. It felt like everything he used to know, like a place that he always longed for, like relief after being homesick for years.

The press of her lips were as warm as always, tasting of the same coffee that she always drank before a mission for an extra adrenaline rush. The gentle slide of her tongue was second nature to him, and her mouth opeand up against his.

When she sighed into the glide of their mouths, she sighed like relief and the sound was sweet to Damian’s ears, who let his fingers trail every inch of her back, familiarizing himself with the new muscles that had grown there. The pads of his fingers danced to her the little bit of chub around her hips, which he squeezed the way he always would when he kissed her.

Raven had to stand slightly on her toes now, grabbing at the hairs at the back of his head. There was a wetness on her cheek, but Damian didn’t know if the tears belonged to her or to himself.

His mind couldn’t comprehend anything, only remembering with such happiness that he was proven wrong when he told himself three years ago that he would never kiss her again.

Raven broke the kiss to breath, red rimmed eyes searching his as her hands wrapped around his jawline.

“I still remember how you taste,” was all she whispered shakily, and that was all Damian could take before he swooped down to catch her lips again.

I’d let you have this for the rest of your life, if you only ask now.

Damian thought it, but he couldn’t say it, knowing that that would require disconnecting their lips which was a concept he wasn’t keen on doing.

For a second, Damian let himself be lost in it all, before the familliar slap of heels of pavement made their way towards the office.

Backup.

The two of them broke the kiss, jumping away from one another before they hesitated and gravitated toward each other again.

It was too late.

Familliar fellow vigilantes raider through the door with guns in hand before they realized the situation and eyed the limp body of the delinquent, picking him up and carrying him in fours.

A silence overcame for a moment, one that had Damian anxious before a figure appeared at the door, leaning against it as he assessed the situation, eyeing Raven in the eyes coldly before he nodded approvingly at the bodies on the floor.

“You’ve done well, son,” Bruce said, before glancing at Raven, who only looked at the floor. A smidge of anger could be seen through furrowed eyebrows.

Her lips were in a pout, the same lips Damian had kissed after years of longing, the same woman he had dreamed of for such a long time that—

“I believe your job is done,” Bruce said quietly at Raven. “You’re more than welcome to leave.”

Damian’s heart sank.

Raven bit her lips, dark eyes glancing at his father before straightening her back, clenching her jaw and walking out the door. She made sure that her shoulder brushed against Bruce’s in a passive way of aggression.

She’s walking away again, Damian felt numb, and I’m letting her go, again.

The thought was enough to tighten his throat and bring tears pricking at the corner of his eyes. Damian sucked in a breath, could feel the emptiness in his arms without her warmth so strongly that it felt every corner of his skin she had touched was now burning.

I can’t do this, Damian thought. I can’t go home without you.

He only had one choice—the only choice he was allowing himself. He walked passed his father, who kept a strong hand on his shoulder. Bruce looked at him with threat in his eyes, a warning to behave, but Damian couldn’t be bothered to care.

He shoved his father’s hand away, and when he ran through puddles, panting as he heard the splash of them, he realized that’s the sound he should’ve heard when she walked out of his life.

The sound of him running after her.

He crossed the corner, watching her sulking figure walk through the pounding of rain with intent in her step and hurry in her pace.

Damian was hit by how familliar the sight was—and he did what he believed for the past three years would have made Raven stay, would’ve made everything better and give them their happy ending.

He called her name.

Raven did something she hadn’t done three years ago. She stopped in her tracks and hesitated, then looked behind her with ruby eyes and kiss swollen lips.

Damian’s heart raced, feeling butterflies birth in his stomach. He remembered all the nights he had spent wondering ‘what if I called her name that night, would she have turned around? Would she have stayed?’

And when he watched her stop, and turn around, he thought for just a second that he had been right in his fantasies throughout the three years.

But she had paused.

And she had looked back at him.

And then her head turned back to road, watched the rain fall in front of her and let him crumble at the sight of her retreating back once more.

It was a long time before Damian realized he had been watching an empty street for some time now, and an even longer time until he realized that she’d seen the chance of loving him again, and had abandoned it.

(He went home with his own shadow that night, and the sound of rain ringing in his ears.)


End file.
